But she didn’t know I was listening. He voice seemed to come from far away. Like in a dream I couldn’t wake from. Sometimes I thought I caught a whiff of paint and strawberries and I felt at peace. Content. Until I heard her crying. Corin never cried. But she cried all the time now. And I knew it was because of me. Because she was alone. I had left her. I had promised her a different ending to our story. I was a goddamned liar. “You need to sleep sometime, Cor.” I could hear her sister talking to her. Trying to get her to go home. To sleep. To eat. Sometimes she’d listen and leave. Those were dark times. When I knew she was gone. But she always came back. “Don’t die, Beck. Please.” I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. There were too many things I still wanted to do. And Corin, my beautiful, complicated Corin, had experienced too much heartache. Too much pain. But I couldn’t wake up. I’d go so far under that it was nothing but blackness. Dark and cold. I was alone.
